Beyond All Repair
by BrazenMonkey
Summary: Loki's thin fingers wrapped around her pointed chin and he forced her to look into his eyes. "Plea as long as you choose, Miss Foster. But I intend on taking my time."


**A/N: Alright, this is completely new territory for me in so many ways. I usually don't write Lokane nor do I write a lot of stories rated M, but both is the case in this shortcut. Browsing a couple of days ago, I stumbled upon a lot of Lokane-fics where Loki keeps his promise to pay Thor's lover a visit. This is my version of it.**

**Warning: This is rated M for good reason, mention of torture and rape, no fluff, no cute, seriously evil Loki. Just so nobody calls me crazy. This is just how _I_ imagined what would happen if Loki did keep his promise - and I don't think he would be too kind, nor that Jane would enjoy it.  
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**While I wrote, I listened to: 'Grace' and 'Timeless' by Kate Havnevik, both a little depressing but I needed that to get the right mood.  
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**As usual: If you liked it, please leave a review and tell me why. If you didn't, feel free to do the same :)  
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* * *

Wordless Thor Odinson stared at what the guards had brought him to.

"_There is a ...gift in your room, my Prince."_

"_A gift? Pray, from whom?"_

"_It says it has been sent to you from your brother.", they had answered, a shimmer of an unnamed emotion in their eyes._

He had been happy that Loki was alive. But why didn't he come visit him himself? Was there hope that Loki had overcome his false sentiment of betrayal?

But now he saw he had just been blind, naïve like a child.

He bent over the form that had been carefully placed on his bed. Stains of blood, deep burgundy like flecks of rust, crusted the hair where it used to flow like brown silk. Her skin was a pattern of bruises, nicks, cuts, some of the wounds slightly healed, some still fresh. Her lip was chapped, a tear ran through her eyebrow and dark crimson spots interrupted the even tone of her skin. Her head was bent backwards, her broken body still clothed in a pair of threadbare jeans and a plain shirt, her feet bare.

Thor did not dare touch her.

_An illusion,_ he tried to reason with himself. _Just an illusion_. But as soon as his fingertips would meet hers, the illusion would turn out to be real.

Her eyes were still open but the light had vanished out of them and tears had drawn salty traces through the dirt on her face. The last breath had been exhaled long ago but her white lips were still parted as if she was about to suck in air again.

His chest clenched, something choking his heart. Was it fear? He could not remember the last time he had been truly afraid.

"Jane...", he whispered.

* * *

_Please._

The wordless beg fell on deaf ears. He would not grant her relief. Not yet.

Jane Foster let out a shaky breath and swallowed the sigh that had danced on her lips. The blades of her shoulders trembled with their heavy load and the rope around her wrists cut off the blood circulation, leaving her hands numb as she kneeled half upright on the ground.

She did not remember how she came here, nor how much time had passed. Pain had erased both.

The sound of feet on the concrete floor approached again and out of the shadow he surged again, his pale skin so white it was almost translucent, his venomous green eyes scanning her body.

He moved gracefully, elegant, almost soundless, a calm surrounding him that was both serene and angry.

Loki's thin fingers wrapped around her pointed chin and he forced her to look into his eyes.

"Plea as long as you choose, Miss Foster. But I intend on taking my time."

His cool fingertips brushed a strand of bloody hair out of her face. Then it hit her, again, out of nowhere. Her skin broke as if cut by a knife, blood pouring out of a wound on her thigh. And again there was no weapon to be seen, no movement of Loki that had warned her. His magic was untraceable.

Jane gritted her teeth and kept the cry of pain safely locked inside her throat. She wouldn't do him the favour and whimper.

Loki watched the emotions playing out on her face, first the shock, then the pain and at last he saw the resistance. With a smug grin, he chuckled.

_He enjoys this,_ Jane thought with contempt. _He _feeds_ on your pain. _Like the true monster he was.

Her disdain mirrored in her blood-shot eyes. Loki gripped her face tighter and stared right into them, passing the border of flesh to dive into her mind.

_No,_ Jane thought, fighting the invasion while she tried to cast him out. In vain.

There he was, searching through her memories, her emotions, her knowledge, her _self_, through everything she consisted of.

He stumbled upon her memories of her childhood, the recollection of the death of her parents, and made her relive that hurt, that loss. He tossed the images that still pained her so – the lifeless eyes of her father and her mother, both so cold and not moving – carelessly aside, continuing onto her youth, picking out the insecurities she felt as a nerdy shy girl of sixteen, letting that unrequited want to fit in, to be like everyone else, sink into her mind again.

And then, he finally found what he apparently had been looking for.

"Ahhh,...", he sighed with content as he discovered what she had tried to hide from him: The memories of Thor, the hope attached to it, the love that flooded every moment of it.

A sinister grin distorted Loki's features. "You still hope, do you?" He bent his head and his lips stroke the shell of her ear. "You hope for him to return?"

Jane closed her eyes, trying to lean away from him. Where his lips touched her ear, where his breath caressed her skin, it left a sting, like a piece of blaze was seared into her flesh.

The tip of his nose nudged the shell of her ear again. "Let me tell you a little secret, my dear. It shall free you from your girlish fantasies." He lowered his voice and whispered. "Thor is and has always been a womaniser. You think yourself special?"

His hand cupped her chin again and he forced her to look up. The sound of heavy boots on the floor made her eyes shot open and for a moment, a warm, welcome hint of hope surged in her. A couple of yards in front of her, Thor was standing in all his pride. But in the brink of a second the bitter taste of deception washed away her hope for help. It was an illusion, again.

Out of the void, created out of fog, two maiden clung to her lover's arms, soundless laughter falling from their lips as they hooked their slender arms around his muscled body while his strong hands searched their way around their hips, passionately squeezing them tighter to him as they threw him admiring glances.

"_This_ is what he does.", Loki whispered into her ear. "There is nothing like fidelity, steadiness or reliability in his eyes. To him, you are nothing but short amusement, to prove that he is irresistible in every other realm."

The illusionary god of thunder suddenly look at her, his polar blue eyes empty, pitiless. There was no endearment in them, only indifference. For a short moment, the words Loki had uttered sank into Jane's mind, clouding the memories of the tenderness she had felt towards Thor. Was he right? She wanted him to be wrong.

Loki, upon sensing her hesitation, continued. "You know, when I fought your great warrior, I told him that as soon as I was finished with him, I would come for you as well." Even though she could not see his face, she knew he was smiling. His voice dripped with false pity. "He _knew _I would find you. Now, tell me, dear Jane, if he cared so much, then why has he not come to your rescue, to warn you? If I was able to come, so is he, it would seem. Still, I see no conquering hero."

Doubt swelled in her chest like acid, suffocating her heart and left her afraid, afraid of him speaking the truth. She fought back the tears dwelling in the corners of her eyes.

The illusion faded and with one swift movement Loki was in front of her, staring right into her eyes. "It is such a pity, is it not? A beautiful woman like you, as delicate as you are – a total waste to a brash beast like my brother."

He got up and moved out of her sight, surrounding her like an animal stalking its prey. One of his hands moved from her back to her waist, long spider-like fingers brushing her naked skin through the holes in her shirt.

Holding back a whimper, Jane sucked in her breath, pulling herself back from his touch as far as she could. But she was bound, helpless. _At his mercy,_ a voice in her head reminded her as if she had forgotten.

Again, his touch burnt her skin, the ice-cold fingers that traced patterns along the soft skin of her stomach caused vile to surge in her throat.

His lean body pressed into her back and the second hand joined the first, the one on her belly slowly moving downwards while the other one cupped her breast. Cold lips pressed onto the little part of her neck that covered her pulse. He turned his head, burying it in her hair while he inhaled her fragrance. He could almost smell her fear.

A sob escaped Jane's lips. "Don't.", she begged. Her pride was of no concern to her anymore, he could have her beg all he wanted. She just wanted him to _stop_.

As if they consisted of ice, her clothes practically melted off her trembling body, leaving nothing but her underwear behind, nothing to shield her from his hands any longer.

For a second, his hands were gone but before relief could wash away her fear, he was standing in front of her – and stared. Stared at her naked form, at the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the hollow of her bellybutton, the crease where her legs met her hips.

The tears, held back only seconds ago, now found their way over the border of her lash line down her cheeks. "Please...", she whispered, desperate. Could there be any humanity left in him?

Loki's eyes darted towards her face and he stepped one step closer to her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. For a moment, he remained silent.

And then he laughed, loudly, haughtily, arrogantly, almost madly. It hurt her ears like fingernails scratching over a blackboard. And it scared her.

"You are mad...", she spat out, her chest heavy with suppressed sobs.

Loki's laugh died in his throat. "Usually, I do not share the same unrefined taste my brother has." He rolled his eyes with disdain.

His eyes narrowed and he bent his body so his head met hers, close enough for her to look into the consuming depths of his eyes, so clear she was sure he could see right into her soul.

"But for you, I will make an exception. And believe me, Jane Foster, if I promise you this: I will make you scream.", he growled from the back of his throat. "Not with pleasure but with pain. I will make you beg, cry, writhe, I will ruin you for any other man, god or human." His hoarse voice oozed into her head and in her eyes, she could see what he wanted her so see: A heap of tangled limbs, hands securing her wrists in place, leave her defenseless, helpless to endure the unrelenting thrusts of his hips, muffled cries for help, swallowed by aggressive lips feeding on her misery.

He kept his promise.

* * *

Cradling her in his arms, careful as if any thoughtless touch could still hurt her, Thor Odinson drew Jane Foster's lifeless body to his chest.

Guilt, abominable self-loathing filled him. _This is your fault_, it sounded in his head. _You could have prevented this_.

He lowered his head to place a shaky kiss on his dead lover's forehead. His lips still touching her skin, he whispered: "I am sorry. There is no forgiveness for what you had to endure because of me, my Jane." Tears joint his words that met her face. "Wherever you are, I hope I will see you again, one day, my everlasting love." His voice broke upon the last words and left him in silence.

His big hands stroke the hair out of her face and the tears dropped onto her cheeks, washing away the dirt and blood. With a touch as light as a feather, he closed her eyes and pressed his lips between her brows.

Holding her close to him, the pounds of his broken heart thudding against his ribs, he gave her a wordless promise, a promise that her tormentor would be brought to justice. Even if it took him a thousand years.


End file.
